Premonitions
by TheAxolotlQueen
Summary: Kros is amnesic, fourteen, and has powers. All she knows is Providence, but it doesn't stop her longing for answers to her mysterious past. That is until someone comes offering answers, but not quite the answers she was expecting... A Generator Rex next generation fanfiction. Generator Rex was created by Man of Action and is owned by Cartoon Network.


Well, hello there! It is me! I was going to make this into a comic, but with Kira Phantom, the fact that the characters are hard for me to draw consistently, and my own original comic (more on that later) I decided to instead write this as a novel-like thing. I heccin' LOVE Generator Rex and making Next-Gen fanfiction so this happened. Kros, the main character of this, is named after Sandra "Krossan/Kros" Rios, whose comics helped me to feel more comfortable about writing fanfiction. I don't own Generator Rex. That would be Cartoon Network. But they aren't doing anything with it so... yeah.

I won't do these beforehand thingies with the rest of these chapters, but I will probably do the end things at the end of chapters. I'll probably do the standard "I don't owe this please don't sue me" along with something else. You see, I have transcripts from when this was going to be a comic. So if there was a transcript, or some writing planned for a chapter, I will make sure to make note of the adaptation. Some of the original transcripts were written with help from other people, so I will make sure to credit them. For example, the transcript this is adapted from is one I wrote myself, but it was beta-read by my friends Rachel, Abby, and Ashyrvir.

Thank you and enjoy reading!

* * *

Red lights were flashing. Alarms were blaring. But all Kros wanted to do was sleep. To stay in her little cocoon of warmth and not bad things and not go out into the world.

"¡Cinco minutos, por favor!" She grumbled, turning over, trying to nest deeper into the soft black fleece. Her eyes cracked open for a tiny bit and she nearly had a heart attack at what she saw.

THE ALARM CLOCK ON HER NIGHTSTAND SAID 1000.

Kros' eyes widened and she shot bolt upright, heart pounding. She tore the blanket off of her, exposing the bronze skin that wasn't well covered by her oversized band t-shirt and flannel short shorts.

"おそい! Six is going to kill me…" She muttered worriedly, daring to put her feet on the ice-cold floor. She scrambled to put her black and purple bedhead mess excuse for hair in a ponytail as she sprinted across her room to the dresser, tying it off with the gray scrunchie she always had on her wrist. She chose some clothes at random, trying to get her feet into something relatively warm before they got frostbite from the cold, white metal floor. She looked at herself quickly in the mirror, putting on her black lipstick with incredible precision, from muscle memory if anything. and darted out the door, pulling on a jacket, unwittingly knocking into the bipedal chimpanzee, Bobo Haha.

"Hey! Watch it, kid!" he shouted after her as she sprinted down the hall.

"¡Lo siento! ごめん! I will repay you in pizza!" She shouted back, still running. She could've sworn she heard Bobo grumble, "You'd better remember this time kid," but she wasn't exactly in the right mood to roll her eyes at his mumbling and complaining. She didn't have time for that.

I am sooooooo late. And sooooo dead.

* * *

"It's been this way for three years, and the answer is still no." White Knight growled, his face contorting into something between exasperation and anger. Holiday glared up at his image on the screen. She had been in this white room many times, pleading with him to reconsider. Though they had very different views on things, White Knight and Rebecca Holiday were very similar in one respect; both of them were extremely unrelenting. Which was why Agent Six never interfered with this topic of conversation. He had his opinions, yes. And they were well known by Knight. But he also knew his old partner. His old friend. It's why he had kept him a secret from White Knight at first, but obviously that had turned out well. It still stung to think about it. Shove it down, Six told himself, taking in an inaudible, but deep breath. Shove it down. Just like One taught you. Through his sunglasses he glanced at his fuming wife.

"We can't hide it from her forever, White Knight! I swear, if we go on like this, she'll go ballistic on Providence! You know we don't want to find out if Kros has that ability!" She yelled. Six could predict what White Knight was about to say next, and right on cue,

"Which is exactly why this decision was made, Dr Holiday. Now, getting onto other business." Six inwardly sighed in relief. A different topic. More focused. Simple. The way he liked it.

"There's a madman in a biomechanical suit trying to bring down the UN building. I want Krossan out there, and your son, assuming he hasn't already destroyed something he can fix. Agent Six, you'll be monitoring the two. Only intervene if they can't handle the situation." Six couldn't help but raise an eyebrow. White Knight had been very concerned with keeping Kros locked away in Providence, having her trained to fight so she wouldn't be "useless" and now he was considering moving Kros out in the open. Six knew that eventually Knight would, but today… why today? To White Knight this was just another day but to Six… he didn't even want to think about it.

It was dangerous for her out there. If someone figured out who she was and what she was… He didn't think there was too much chance of it, but he knew there were people who knew about him, and, of course, the assumptions that some conspiracy theorists had about Providence.

"Understood," Six affirmed, but realized White Knight had made a mistake. "And it was four years ago that the decision was made, as of today. Not three." he added. White Knight's eyes narrowed.

"Don't remind me," He murmered. Knight gave a short nod, and the screen winked out, the Providence logo replacing where his face had been. Their signal to leave. Dr Holiday was very obviously angry, but Six retained his emotionless exterior. Holiday let out a growling noise, and Six looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

"White Knight is absolutely impossible sometimes! This has been going on four years too long! We should have told her right then and there!" Holiday exclaimed frustratedly.

"Kros was injured. When I brought her in she was suffering from hypothermia and in a coma. We're lucky to have her alive, even if… Look… please…" Six stopped, and Holiday followed suit. Her expression was confused, but caring. He held her delicate but skilled hands in his rough, calloused ones.

"Not today, Rebecca. Please." Six rarely showed any type of emotion, only the raised eyebrows when he wanted to know more, both eyebrows raised, conveying surprise or exasperation, and the extremely rare smile, but he was making himself vulnerable for her.

"Not on the anniversary."

* * *

As Kros continued running down the blinding white halls of Providence, the agents stationed there were not very interested in what the teen's commotion was all about. They were used to this; after all, it happened at least once a week. Kros finally got to the training room, but the lack of light made her heart quiver and her knees weak. She shakily took a breath, and forced herself to scowl as she entered the dark room.

"Hijo of a 忍者--HOLY CRAP!!!!" Kros was suddenly lifted off of her feet and the lights turned on, revealing her shadowy captor.

"HAPPY BARFDAY, KROSSANT!!!" He yelled joyfully. Kros rolled her eyes and lifted up her arms, sliding through his grasp.

"Goal," she said sarcastically. She then looked over as the form of William Wegoon (pronounced "We-go-on") Holiday slammed down onto his knees, air guitaring like the absurd geek that he was.

"OLEEEEEE OLE OLE OLE OOOLE OOOLEEEEE! OLE!!" His dangerously tone-deaf voice gave Kros' ears pins and needles as she stood up. He followed her motion, but more fluidly, and he began swaying side to side, snapping his fingers, looking like a kid trying too hard in musical theatre that only a very loving mother could barely tolerate.

"So bring muh, bring my ber--mmf! Hwey!" His muffled voice came out in protest as Kros slammed her hand on his mouth, barring the world from his terrible excuse for singing.

"First of all," Kros began, quickly removing her hand before he could lick it, "you cannot sing for your life, Will." Will made an overexaggerated pouty face. Kros rolled her eyes, trying not to smile. He was soooo immature. "Second of all, it's not really my birthday. It's just the day your dad found me and brought me to Providence." She continued, folding her arms in an annoyed manner.

"Sorry, all I heard is 'it's' and 'my' and 'birthday'. Exclusively in that order without the 'ands' in between. And all that stuff about my dad bringing you here. Speaking of my dad, where were you earlier? You missed training." Will looked genuinely concerned, and it killed Kros when he looked like that. She looked away from him.

"I overslept. I just hope Six doesn't kill me when he gets here." Kros admitted. Will put on a mockingly suave smile in return.

"Who iz ya kittenz, Krossan, you're a goner!"

"I'm not even a cat person!"

"I bet 'ol Daddy-o za tryin' to figure out whur to hide the body rite now…"

"Shut up."

At that moment, Agent Six himself appeared in the doorway. He motioned his head in both Will and Kros' directions.

"Will, Kros, my jump jet. Five minutes." He walked away, his brown dress shoes' heels clicking down the hallway.

"Ah, m'dear old Dad… so good at being straightforward…" Will trailed, with hammed up affection. He then turned to Kros, confused.

"But… why'd he ask for you? You never go out on like… fighting missions." Kros shrugged.

"I don't know, but I'm seriously hoping that he's not going to kill me." As Kros said this, Will rolled his eyes and threw his hands in the air.

"I will never understand why peeps find my dad so scary! If I had to bet money on anyone killing me, it'd be my mom."

"Your dad is the sixth most dangerous human on the planet, Holiday."

"And your point is…?"


End file.
